


Republic's Heroes

by DyingSucculents



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Clones and children, Fluff, K A R K I LOVE CLONES AND CHILDREN, now look here i tried my best but i think emotion got in the way, rex jesse and hc are all by mention, tup was just looking a little lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyingSucculents/pseuds/DyingSucculents
Summary: A familiar face is the subject of a grade school interview project.





	Republic's Heroes

 

The pre-primary class teacher at the Epsilon Academy for Coruscanti Children had been missing all day. When the classroom security guard clocked in at 0500, he had assumed she was out sick. Not that it was of much concern to him at that point, but all the same, she hadn’t called in her absence, and the results, simply put, were rather _unlucky._

No substitute had been brought in, so administration decided it best that the relatively small class of 6 to 8 year olds was to have a ‘free study day’; why children who could barely write a coherent sentence needed to study _freely_ remained a mystery. The guard, Zaphone Tainer, had ─ rather unhappily ─ been placed at his station, per usual, and thus became the only adult in the room. By the time the chrono struck 1200, the place was a predictable mess. Drawing utensils littered the floor and their marks stained the stark-white wall various shades of brown and green. At some point, a child had vomited in the corner after eating one too many paper scraps ─ “pretend food” ─ and had to be taken home.

Tainer was almost looking forward to the arrival of the clone guest by that point. Uncomfortable with children by nature and suddenly glad he hadn’t settled down and had some of his own, the thought of a second adult in the room soothed the guard’s churning gut. Tainer couldn’t have given a damn if the thing was artificially or naturally conceived, as long as it did _something._ In fact, he almost felt bad for it. The clone was to be interviewed for the class’s final section of their “Heroes of the Republic” project, so full attention would be placed on the thing. Pity, although he still anticipated its arrival.

But then it actually arrived, and all of Tainer’s optimism promptly stepped off the highest tower of the Galactic City Spacescraper.

The clone, as previously requested by the teacher, came through the door in full armor, and Tainer instantly concluded that the teacher had lost her _karking_ mind for asking such a thing. Armored plates bulked up the figure’s form, and a shiny white helmet ─ with an admittedly ominous black visor and a blue teardrop painted beneath it ─ concealed its face. _Hells, did it even have a face?_ Tainer found himself taking an instinctive step back, allowing the visitor to stalk fully into the doorway. It took a second before the children noticed the clone, but when they did, a hush so profound settled over the atmosphere that Tainer nearly believed he had lost his hearing.

That was, until the room descended into chaos.

Chairs toppled over as half the room scrambled for the back corners, and a wailing cry went up from under one of the desks. A few of the girls even began screaming at the top of their lungs ─ not particularly interested in running anywhere, but more so in standing in place and shrieking. What truly shocked Tainer, however, was the way the clone jumped and took a stumbling step backwards at the raucous wails that greeted him. A gloved hand fumbled against the door frame, the other coming up to regain balance, while the black visor turned to stare directly at Tainer as if the clone was asking for help. Everything had happened so fast that the guard discovered himself in a state of disarray ─ enough so that he found himself yelling at the poor clone.

“Take it off! Can you take it _off_?”

The clone froze for a moment before comprehension seemed to sink in. A hiss of pressurized air, and the seal of the helmet popped like the sound of an airlock opening. A moment later, and the piece of armor clattered to the ground, rolling some distance until it bounced against the leg of a desk and stopped short. Tainer’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hey, easy! Easy, easy.” A young man, seemingly no older than 22, had emerged from beneath the helmet and was now holding his arms out in front of him, palms up to display empty hands. “I’m human, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m the… I’m the clone… you were… expecting?” The clone cast a brief, questioning look over his shoulder at Tainer, who gave a weak nod in return.

“He’s… he’s it, kids. Calm down.”

“Really,” the clone said as the shrieks began to diminish, save for the whimpering of a few children still hidden in the corner. Eyes covered, they still couldn’t see the clone’s surprisingly human features. “I _promise_ I won’t hurt you. I was told you just had some questions for… for _me_.”

Before Tainer could even begin to contemplate how disbelieving the clone had sounded at the thought of being someone interesting enough to be questioned, one child shot up from behind a desk and slammed both hands ─ unnecessarily dramatic ─ on the wooden surface.

“I didn’t know you could take your helmet off!”

The clone blinked, one hand coming up to his cheek as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Sure we can. How come you thought we couldn’t?”

“Well, I don’t know. I thought they were just attached to you or something.”

To Tainer’s utter surprise, the clone gave a short laugh. “My helmet _is_ nice, but I think my face is a _little_ nicer.”

“That’s bragging.” Tainer sourced the voice to a twi’lek girl who was edging her way towards where the clone still stood awkwardly near the doorway. Again, he laughed, easier this time, his shoulders visibly relaxing. On the opposite side of the room, the rest of the class seemed to be settling in the same manner. The whimpering had since ceased, replaced by an air of reluctant curiosity. The twi’lek appeared to be driven by it, sans the reluctance. Crossing the class with authority oozing from her minuscule form, she caught the clone by the hand, uttering a nonchalant “Come on, mister clone,” and pulled him down to sit on a plastifoam mat in the center of the class. The clone sat heavily with a loud clack of armor.

“It’s time to start the interview,” the girl continued casually, completely disregarding the fact that the entire class had been in a state of blind panic only half a minute earlier. She instead sniffed, straightening her back and clearing her throat ─ a combination that Tainer decided was suspiciously similar to the judges depicted in the Republic’s televised trials. The clone seemed to find it just as amusing, glancing inquisitively at the rest of the children over the twi’lek’s shoulder, one eyebrow raised in humored question. The expression coaxed a small wave of laughter from the group, and one by one, the students filed over. One child ─ a fair-haired human girl of about 6 ─ propped herself up against the clone’s side, causing him to stiffen and shift nervously. The twi’lek scrunched her violet nose but didn’t comment, turning her attention back to the interviewee.

“I’m Mizeka. Do you have a name, mister clone?”

The clone blew out a breath, as if he had been waiting for the question. Tainer thought it odd, considering that, from what he had heard, clones were numbered and responded as such. Then again, this clone was surprising him with every move he made.

“I do,” the clone replied, and Tainer wondered if he had heard his thoughts. “My name is Tup.”

Immediately, the cluster of children crowded around ‘Tup’ exploded with questions.

“Do you have a nickname?”

“Who named you that? Your mother or your father?”

“What’s a _Tup?_ ”

The latter of the questions appeared to catch Tup’s attention, and he sourced it back to the fair-haired girl who had subconsciously slipped under his armored arm.

“I’m a Tup,” said Tup.

The child giggled, and as Tainer looked on with blatant disbelief, the clone broke into a broad, helpless grin. Mizeka observed the conversation before giving a satisfied nod and clearing her throat again. Then, with a wax pen the shade of her skin, she wrote out a crude three-lettered word that looked more like ‘Bup’ than anything else.

“Next question!” A boy from the back of the crowd called out.

“Calm your tentacles, Huj, I’m workin’ on it,” Mizeka shot back, clearing her throat a _third_ time. Tainer wondered how she hadn’t already scraped it raw. “Al- _right._ What do you do, Tup?”

“Well, I… I protect the Republic,” the clone said, clearly struggling to make his explanation child-friendly. “I fight droids.” As the children leaned in, obviously expecting more, Tup turned, discreet, and caught Tainer’s eyes with his own.

“I think the kids want to know what _kind_ of soldier you are,” Tainer tried, pursing his lips when Tup seemed to deflate slightly.

“I’m just a line trooper. An infantryman.”

“What’s an in-fan-ry man,” someone asked, and Tup chuckled.

“ _Infantry._ ”

“In-fan-try.”

“That’s it. You got it.”

 _A line trooper._ Tainer almost gave a bitter laugh despite himself. It made sense. The GAR wouldn't even spare a sergeant, let alone a captain for some kiddy project. The poor clone was probably forced to take the job nobody else wanted. The children seemed to be enjoying his company, however, and Tup appeared to be warming to them. Tainer couldn’t have expected any of it. For a man bred to kill ─ as Republic media often put it ─ he seemed almost _gentle_ , unsure of himself and careful around the kids. They themselves seemed to find that assuring, if anything, and as Tainer watched, one of the quieter children finally spoke up.

“What was your favorite battle?”

Tup blinked, baffled, opening and closing his mouth several times as if his answer just wouldn't come out. _Was there even such a thing as a favorite battle?_ It suddenly became painfully obvious to Tainer that no one had looked over the questions before they had been asked. Sympathy rose in the guard’s chest as he watched Tup falter, shadows flashing across his eyes. Was that _hurt_? Was he thinking of a distant memory? A recent loss? Perhaps a betrayal? It was only when the young one beneath his arm tugged on his breastplate that he seemed to snap from his trance, offering a sad smile to the girl.

She smiled right back up at him. “Are you okay, Tup?”

Tup’s answering expression was one of such tender, surprised affection that Tainer was sure if his own mother had been there, she’d have taken the humble clone in her arms and would have never let him go.

“Yeah. I’m okay. You know, I think my _favorite_ battle was on a world called Ithiscus. It had these lizards so large you could ride them, if you wanted.”

A unified gasp echoed from the group, and Tup looked quite pleased with himself at the reaction, the little tear tattoo beneath his eye crinkling with his grin. Mizeka seemed to be watching the mark with profound amusement, squinting at it before decidedly setting down the paper and wax pen and clapping her hands. The tattoo had proved too intriguing to wait.

“Okay, break time! What’s that under your eye?”

“This isn’t for the interview?”

Mizeka shook her head so fiercely that her lek tossed about her shoulders. “Nope. I just wanna know.”

Tup shrugged, the corner of his lips quirking slightly. “It’s a tattoo. A lot of my brothers get tattoos. They usually represent something that’s meaningful to them.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my brother Jesse has the Republic cog on his face.”

“How big?”

A half-snort on Tup’s behalf told Tainer that this _Jesse_ had a tattoo that was most likely… abnormally large. Yet, before the clone could answer, a short nautolan boy stood up abruptly and, without any hesitation, poked a finger directly into the marking. Tup sat back on his heels, a hand flying up to his eye with a shocked exhale. To his credit, he didn’t reel away as Tainer had expected him to, perhaps for fear of hurting the child; the nautolan jumped back instead with a lisped apology and hurried out of the crowd, returning a few seconds later with a paper cone-cup filled to the brim with some juice.

“Sorry,” the boy repeated, and thrust the juice into the hand not covering Tup’s eye, as if the beverage supplemented his apology. The clone accepted the cup hesitantly, but didn’t bring it to his lips, instead reaching out to pat the nautolan twice on his cheek in reassurement. Tainer had a fleeting suspicion the gesture had been repeated with other clones ─ _younger_ clones? ─ but didn’t dwell on the thought.

The ‘break’, as it went, yielded to the professionalism ─ or lack thereof ─ of the children, simply becoming an unofficial extension of the interview. Not that the interview was much of an interview in the first place, but Tainer caught himself before he could begin to criticize and nitpick over the social skills of children. Besides, if Tainer were to truly be honest, he sincerely doubted that the _official_ interview would ever resume. Tup held the class’s full attention, and the children sat silently, riveted by the clone’s tales of outer rim worlds and GAR technology. Even Mizeka’s sheet of paper went forgotten as the once authoritative twi’lek leaned forward, her hands in her lap and delight in her eyes.

By the time the 1300 chimes sounded, at least four children lay huddled in Tup’s lap, including the nautolan, who was now attempting to fit his hands beneath the clone’s forearm plates as the stories continued. Tup complied seemingly without conscious effort and had taken to gesturing with his free arm, leaving the boy to muse over the armor. A group of girls had taken to braiding Tup’s hair shortly afterwards, surprising Tainer yet again.

“You have long hair,” one of the girls ─ a blue-skinned twi’lek ─ had prompted in a matter-of-fact tone. “Do all clones have long hair?”

Tup had laughed wholeheartedly, going on to describe the various hairstyles that his fellow clones sported. While explaining the rather eccentric style one clone named ‘Gree’ wore, Tup had taken his first cautious sip out of the paper cup that had been left previously untouched in his hand. The look of absolute delight that followed _almost_ made Tainer grin, had it not been for the fact that the sight made him wonder why the clone had never tasted _fruit juice_ before.

By 1330, Tup had emptied nearly five cups of juice, while the nautolan had succeeded in removing a piece of plastoid forearm plating. Tup had offered sincere congratulations, and the boy had practically glowed under the praise, nestling his head against Tup’s armored chest. The fair-haired human, meanwhile, had rolled back the clone’s exposed sleeve, revealing a rough, circular burn scar near the wrist. _That_ turned out to have a rather interesting backstory, involving a clone named Hardcase, a white-hot field ration stick, and a resultantly furious captain called Rex.

"Ah, they should've brought my captain here instead of me,” Tup had finished fondly, tipping back his sixth cup of juice. “You’d have loved him.”

Questions sprung up almost instantaneously.

“Can you bring him if you come again?”

“Does he have scars, too?”

“Is his hair long?”

“What kind of juice does he like?”

“Is he your best friend?”

Tainer, rather regrettably, also found himself wanting to know what kind of juice this ‘Rex’ character liked, but would have shot himself in the foot before revealing his interest. Luckily, the 1400 alarm sounded before he even had a chance to display his captivation in the subject.

“Alright, Tup has to go. It’s 1400.”

The resounding “ _Awww_ ” that filled the room drowned out the disappointment that ─ to Tainer’s utter astonishment ─ had found its way into his own voice. Truthfully, this clone had been nothing but kind and sensible, not at all the stone cold killer that Tainer had been expecting. Even as Tup climbed to his feet, looking absolutely beside himself with emotion, the guard continued to wish for _more_.

But instead, he simply held his hand out.

Tup stared down at it for a moment before appearing to remember some social instruction, taking Tainer’s hand in his own and shaking it.

“Thank you… for your service,” was all Tainer heard himself say.

Tup said nothing in return, only offering a courteous nod.

A chorus of “Goodbye’s” rang out from the class as Tup scooped up his helmet from the ground and tucked it beneath his arm, moving towards the exit as he did so. Only one child ─ the fair-haired girl ─ remained at his side the entire time, tagging along as if she expected to walk right out with him. Just as Tainer began to contemplate whether or not he would be forced to restrain the kid, she reached one tiny hand up to the top of Tup’s thigh plate, curling her fingers about the edge and tugging. Tup stopped short, looking down.

“Mister Tup?”

Tup cocked his head in apparent concern, settling a gloved hand in her hair.

“Where are you going next?”

“That’s a good question,” the clone replied gently, lowering himself to take a knee in front of her. “From what I’ve been hearing, I’m shipping out to a little space station called Ringo Vinda.”

“Ringo Vin-da?”

“That’s it. You got it.”

The girl beamed up at him as he ruffled her hair.

“Okay. Are we gonna see you after?”

A pause, and Tainer felt his heart throb painfully. A clone could make no promises. But then again, Tup had a habit of surprising him ─ and that he did.

“Of _course_ we’ll see each other again. I promise.”

It was all the reassurance the girl needed, and with a smile, she stepped back and gave a shy wave. Tup’s responding grin creased the edges of his eyes, visible until the shadow of his helmet concealed his face from sight.

 _Gods_ , was it too much to ask? Tainer crossed his arms over his chest as the clone disappeared through the doorway. _Was it too much to ask for this one clone to return and fulfill his promise to a child?_

That was all he _really_ wanted. Zaphone Tainer truly wished for nothing more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ** JUST A NOTE, IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING MY UMBARA FIC, I AM S O S O R R Y . Life has gotten very hectic, and I promise I've been working at it little by little!
> 
> Anyways, thank you very much for reading! This, by nooooo means was my best work, but I DID enjoy writing it! So again, thank you for getting through it ;))


End file.
